Dear Olive, Love Martha
by Rosamundius Malloy
Summary: A collection of Martha Boyle's diary entries during the occurrences of "Olive's Ocean."
1. The Beginnings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

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><p>Dear Olive,<p>

I know that you are dead— and have been for over a month—but I still feel compelled to write to you. Your mother came to my house today, and she gave me a page from your journal. She said that you would have wanted me to have it. I never knew that you had wanted to be a writer. That is something that we both had in common. I have always wanted to be a writer. However, I just cannot bring myself to tell my parents. Do you know why? My father will believe that I am copying his profession. He is trying to write a book right now, but I do not think that it is going so well. I want to be the only writer in my family. When I go to Godbee's—my grandmother's—house this summer, I am just going to write.

One the most difficult part about writing is to know what to write about. I doubt that I will write much at Godbee's, but I at least have to try. I hope that many ideas will come to me. Who knows what inspiration events will occur in my life at the ocean?

It has never occurred to me that you have always wanted to see an ocean. I have been to the Atlantic Ocean plenty of times, because that it where Godbee lives. I wish that you could have come with me, so you can fulfill your dreams. Your journal entries bring me so much sorrow. You had so many hopes and dreams. You also had so much potential. The first line of the book you had wanted to write was just lovely. You had such a great sense of style in your writing, but now…you will not be able to write. You can't even see an ocean. I am sorry that we were never friends. You were so quiet, and I—I just was not kind enough to you. I will always regret it. Now we can never be friends. I feel like Anne Shirley when she said: "I must now pay for my folly as a crime."

It is scary, having a person—of your own age—with so many dreams, and having those dreams be nipped at the bud. You died, right after having written your dreams. Your dreams were able to be fulfilled, but that one car crash stopped everything, and you just—it is just too painful to write. What if one day, the same thing will happen to me? One small incident can make such a big difference.

Maybe we can start a friendship right here, in my journal. I have to tell you that I went to the place where you died. My "excuse" for doing so was that my baby sister Lucy wanted to go on a walk. When I arrived at the corner of Knickerbocker and Monroe, I was very upset, because there was no sign that any type of tragedy had taken place. Nothing there told a person that a girl had just died—not even a bouquet of flowers, or even a teddy bear. I had to let others know that you existed. I had to let others know that you were a great person—somebody worth remembering. That is why I wrote your name on the sidewalk with a blue crayon in large block letters. I also gave you one of my most treasured possessions—my bracelet.

I believe that I should tell you something else about me. When I go to Godbee's, I want to take a good look at Tate Manning—a boy who lives near Godbee, and who has five brothers. However, do you know what else I hope? I hope that I will help you fulfill the dreams that you never could.

Love,

Martha Boyle

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: I hope you liked it. I would appreciate getting some reviews...<strong>_

_**Thanks!**_

_**-Delia  
><strong>_


	2. The Arrival

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

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><p>Dear Olive,<p>

I have tried to start writing, but I have not gotten very far. Basically, all I know is that I want to write about a girl named Olive. I used your idea of an orphan as the protagonist as well. I hope that you do not mind. I also have a character based off of my grandmother. I have no other thoughts on writing on the particular moment.

The great thing is that I have finally arrived at Godbee's. I love the ocean, and my grandmother's home. It is a beautiful place, and I just want to absorb all of it in. The sad part about going to Godbee's is that she becomes older year after year. My father becomes increasingly worried about her health. Godbee started a "ritual" with me. She would tell me something about her, and then I would tell her something about me. She truly shocked me on the first day. She said that it might just be our last summer together. I could not digest that, because it was "absolutely and positively inconceivable." Godbee seems so fit and healthy, with the exception of her self-deemed old and withered hands. I asked my father about Godbee's health, and he lectured Godbee to not frighten twelve-year-olds with the notion of death. I feel so sorry for Godbee. I did not mean to get her in trouble with her own son.

The other thing that Godbee told me was also quite astonishing. She has no sense of taste or smell anymore. It is _horrible._ Taste and smell are extremely important. They are necessities of life, because without them, life would not be full. I hope that Godbee will be okay, and that she will live for many more years to come.

Did I ever mention how horrible a vacation with the Boyles can be? That is the second worst part about being at Godbee's. My father is always cranky because of his writing, Lucy screams about banana baby food, my mother is of no help whatsoever, and Vince—my brother—is much too sarcastic to Godbee. Sometimes I just cannot stand my family. They seem so stuck-up and selfish sometimes—with the exception of Godbee. Godbee is always kind and understanding. She would never make anybody do anything that they would not fathom to do. However, I do not resent my family any longer. Can you guess why? My father decided not to pursue his writing dreams anymore. I am now free to be the only writer in my family.

I have a few more secrets to tell you. While I was writing, I became distracted by the five Manning brothers and Vince, who were all shouting and making a loud ruckus. I used this disturbance as an excuse to get a better look at Tate. However, I just happened to find Jimmy very interesting. He even called my name. He also invited me over to his house so that I could watch the film that he was creating. I have to admit that "The World Is Not What You Think It Is" was a very good film. He also told me that he would call me. I hope that he will call me soon. What else do I think? I think that I might like Jimmy Manning.

Love,

Martha Boyle

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Please, I would greatly appreciate reviews...<strong>

**-Delia  
><strong>


	3. Writing Woes

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

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><p>Dear Olive,<p>

Godbee told me that the most difficult part of writing is starting. She also told me about a short story that she had written many years ago. It was about a girl, who was distraught about having to leave her beloved ocean in order to live in the city. The girl just could not bear to part with her homeland. To help rid herself of homesickness, the girl filled a glass container with seawater, and brought it home with her. Godbee said that she did not know how to end the story, so she had the girl accidentally break that bottle and lose the seawater. Godbee thought that the ending was horrible. I thought that the ending was wonderful. Why can't I think of such a creative ending? I am even somewhat jealous. I could never think of such a great ending as that. Hopefully a good ending will come to me someday.

After hearing so much from Godbee, I had to tell her something about me as well. I don't know why I told her that particular secret. I just could not help myself. My feelings just poured out of me. It was uncontrollable. I did not intend to tell her that I liked Jimmy Manning. Surprisingly, Godbee did not react to that statement. All she said was "lucky him." I wonder what that was supposed to mean. Does she know more about Jimmy than I do? Does she find Jimmy a horrible person, or a person that is unloved? Maybe she thinks that I should fancy another person. Who knows what Godbee meant? Do you know what I think? Jimmy might also like me back.

Vince called me today. He told me that Jimmy invited me to dinner. I was so excited! Tate opened the door for me. Why is he always around? When I arrived, Jimmy was filming again. He had started the "death" part of his film. It was funny, showing the audience "capital punishment for crustaceans." On the other hand, the lobster was delicious.

After dinner, Jimmy took me to the Benton Place. He wanted to film Godbee for the "death" portion of his film. I found that very offensive. Godbee is incredibly healthy, and she is not close to death. However, I still liked Jimmy, and he also asked me what would happen when a person dies. I started talking about you, Olive. I just couldn't help it. Thoughts about you and your death flooded through me, and poured out of my mouth. I wish you hadn't died. You were too young. The next thing I knew, Jimmy was filming me. When Jimmy and I left the Benton Place, he held my hand. It was such a wonderful sensation! His grip was loose, but his hand was strong. I could feel my heart pounding. He didn't let go for an hour! It was so romantic. He even wanted me to help him film the "love" portion of his film tomorrow. He said that he needed me. I simply cannot wait.

I even added Jimmy into my story about Olive. His name will be James, and Olive will fall for him. James will even hold Olive's hand.

I hope that Jimmy likes me as much as I like him. I am really glad that he needs me for the "love" part of his film. I hope that tomorrow comes as soon as possible.

Love,

Martha Boyle

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: Any reviews are greatly appreciated...<strong>_

_**-Delia  
><strong>_


	4. Jimmy Manning

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

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><p>Dear Olive,<p>

Jimmy Manning. I know that it is not a complete sentence, but I just cannot fathom Jimmy Manning. He kissed me! I was extremely happy before and while it happened, but afterwards… I hated him. He kissed me, was nice to me, hung around with me, and even built a sand castle with me just because of a stupid bet with his brothers and Vince. Do you know what the worst part was? The kiss was on Jimmy's stupid film. Why would Vince even do such a thing? How could he do that to his own sister? Why was he so cruel? I vow to never tell anybody about the kiss—other than you, Olive. Not even Godbee. I feel horribly separated from the rest of the world. What would you do, if you were tricked like this? I think that it would be best if I ignore Jimmy, and pretend that both the film and the kiss were meaningless.

Jimmy had said that he "needed" me for the "love" portion. I suppose that might have been true. He did not _need_ me. Instead, he needed _me_ to win the bet. I wanted to feel useful for something other than just baby-sitting, or washing the dishes. I was used—just because I wanted to be needed for something other than household activities.

At home, I tried to be the "perfect" twelve-year-old, a cheerful child. That cover did not work, because my father was getting concerned. I may have been a bit too enthusiastic. When I asked Vince about this whole incident, he seemed rather nonchalant. According to him, he was trying to be a good older brother by not rubbing it in. I hated him for that. He seems so self-centered at times that it can be obnoxious.

Even going to my favorite restaurant was no help. Everything reminded me about Jimmy Manning and the kiss. If I saw ketchup, my mind would say: "ketchup—red—heart—kiss—Jimmy Manning." It was depressing. How can I stop thinking about my misfortune? I wish that I saw the true Jimmy Manning when I had the chance, but I did not. I succumbed to his grace and "advances," all of which were fake and phony. Why did I have to be so stupid?

However, I think that Vince made up for his pompous attitude. At dinner, he said that Jimmy Manning was a—well, he used a very bad word. I had to agree with Vince. Olive—not you, but the girl in my story—will probably find out that James is an annoying twit with no feelings and a heart the size of a microbe. Jimmy deserves such insults.

The strangest event happened after dinner. When we arrived home, Tate was waiting on our—or rather Godbee's—front porch. I took him to the sea wall, and he apologized for Jimmy's actions. Tate kept on saying that he did not know what to do. Somehow, Tate brought me hope and confidence. I had to encourage him to do good in the future. I told him that he will know what to do next time. I truly believed it. Tate always seems to be around. I wonder why. He appears to be nervous, but he is always there. Maybe I can get to know him better.

I wish life was not so complex. Your life probably wasn't much easier than mine. I still wish that I had the chance to be your friend.

Love,

Martha Boyle

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><p><em><strong>Author's N<strong>__**ote: All or any reviews are greatly appreciated, as always.**_

_**-Delia  
><strong>_


	5. Endings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

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><p>Dear Olive,<p>

Godbee and I ended the daily ritual. I had nothing else worth telling her, and I will not tell her about the kiss. Godbee did not mind at all. Instead, our family—even Vince—played Parcheesi. Godbee also used Lucy's banana baby food jars and filled them with colorful water. That was such a creative idea. Every day, there will be rows of rainbows in the kitchen. I have other secrets to tell you, and few of them are very light-hearted.

I almost drowned today. I was helping fulfill your dreams of seeing a real ocean. I decided to take one of Lucy's banana baby food jars and fill it up with the ocean. I needed Lucy to stay occupied, so I buried her in the sand. Everything was going along very well. I was near the ocean, and I had filled the jar with seawater. I was just about to return to Lucy, when I saw Jimmy Manning holding hands with girl that I have not seen before. I could not let him see me. That would have been extremely embarrassing. What if he told the girl some crazy story about how I liked him, but he did not like me back? I could not bear the humiliation. I had to avoid Jimmy. I tried to hide near the water. I took a few steps, but suddenly, there was no ground. I fell. I remember panicking, coughing, and swallowing water. It registered in my mind that I was drowning. I tried to resurface, and suddenly, I was able to breathe. I was so frightened. I had almost died, but I'm still alive.

I was luckier than you were. I was lucky enough to have survived. It's scary, having two people experience events where they could have been killed, but only one of them dies. You deserved life as well. Thankfully the jar was still intact, and Lucy did not notice what happened. All I received was a scratch on my cheek. My mother was curious about a sand-covered Lucy, but I just told her that we were playing a game. I lied to everybody about the scratch on my cheek, even Godbee. I regret it, but it would worry my family too much if I had told them that I almost drowned.

I also found a note from Tate, saying that he now knows what he ought to do. He even called me to find out when I will be leaving to go back home. Does he want to talk to me? It's funny, how now I think less of Jimmy and more of Tate. Tate seems a lot nicer than Jimmy, but also much more quiet and timid.

The story about Olive is now abandoned. I do not think that it is very good, or worthy of you or your memory. I think that this story is more about me than you, and it's just pointless. The story is probably going to be like any other sappy, stupid, romance novel found in book stores. You would have had better ideas, and would have helped me by pushing me towards the right directions. I even tried poetry, but I just ended up with a page of "first lines," none of which are really catchy.

I hope that I can give your mother the seawater that I collected for you. I hope that both you and your mother will treasure it as well.

Love,

Martha Boyle

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: All or any reviews are greatly appreciated, as always...<strong>_

_**-Delia  
><strong>_


	6. Home is where the heart is

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

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><p>Dear Olive,<p>

I am at my own home now, and I am glad to be here. I also know what Tate decided to do, and I am very grateful to him for doing so. Before I left Godbee's house, I kept on wondering when Tate would come, and what he decided to do. I even had a horrible dream. I cannot describe it, for it is much too creepy. I think that it meant I did not want to leave. Godbee told me that I was brave, but still I think that I am not as brave as you were, Olive. I will never be as brave as you, no matter how much I try. Even with Godbee's comforting words, I still did not want to leave. I hope that this wasn't my last summer with Godbee. It's surprising how much I resented leaving, but now, I do not mind so much.

I went to the bathroom a lethal amount of times just to delay my family's departure in order to wait for Tate. I was relieved when he arrived. He was carrying a bag, with a note along with it. Can you guess what was in the bag? Jimmy's film was in the bag. Jimmy would have been extremely furious at Tate. I have to find a way to properly thank Tate for doing that for me. I also liked his note. He even said that he was the one that really liked me. No wonder he was always around, trying to strike up a conversation.

When I arrived home, I was surprised to find that your jar was unscathed. It held the ocean, and it was in perfect condition. It held _your_ ocean. Olive's Ocean. It was Godbee who unintentionally gave me the idea of filling a jar with the ocean. She was the one who wrote the story about the girl who missed the ocean, and filled a jar with seawater. I also wondered what I should do to the film. However, there was something else that I had to do, and that something was to tell my father that I want to be a writer. He took it surprisingly well, and was quite sincere. He had officially "passed the torch."

I went to your old house as well. 4525 Nelson Street. I never knew that you had lived so close to me. I wanted to give Olive's Ocean to your mother, but she was not there. The landlord told me that your mother moved to either Oregon or Washington. Did she leave right after she gave me the page from you journal? I wish she hadn't. I could have sealed some type of connection with you by giving your ocean to your mother, but I was too late. I'm sorry that I did not help you fulfill your dreams, but I did use the seawater to write your name on the step of your house. I will never stop thinking about you, and how you have helped me. If I met you today, I would be your friend. I believe your mother started our friendship, the day she gave me the page from your journal. We both had the same secret, wanting to be writers, and we both had near-death experiences. Thank you, Olive. Thank you.

Love,

Martha Boyle

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note: All or any reviews are greatly appreciated, as always...<strong>_

_**I hope you enjoyed the story. I actually wrote this over a year ago for a homework assignment, so it should not have had too many typos.**_

_**-Cordelia Lawrence (Delia)**_

_**I might be adding some edited stories to the "Cordelia Fitzgerald" account sometime in the near or far future...your best bet would be the very far future...  
><strong>_


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